Who Really Assassinated JFK?

If You Were Alive at the Time, You Remember That Day in Dallas

Yes, if you were alive that day November 22, 1963 you remember where you were at, and what was going on, when you heard that the president had been shot. I was with my family at Winn Dixie in Jacksonville, Florida at the time. They announced over the loudspeaker that the president had been shot and then just a few minutes later, as we were standing at the checkout, they announced that the president had died in Dallas. I remember looking across the checkout aisles and people were crying in line. The lady checking out my mom was crying and so was my Mom. America changed that day. It has never been the same and never will be. Who really shot Kennedy? It’s always been a question asked by people all over the world. I think that the US government knows the truth and has kept it hidden. It is my belief that Oswald did not shoot anyone. A recent photo has come out of Oswald watching the motorcade. If he was, he could not have possibly shot anyone.

We don’t know how many have died because of what they knew about the Kennedy assassination. I think that the American people have the right to know the truth about who killed him. I, for one, will always wonder about what happened that day in Dallas and in the days that followed.

John Fitzgerald Kennedy

John Fitzgerald Kennedy born May 17th, 1917 was the 35th president of the United States. He was also the youngest man to ever be elected president. Kennedy served from 1960 until his death in 1963. His brother, Robert, was later assassinated and his son John Jr. later died in a plane crash.

Some very important events in history occurred during his time in office. Among them was the Bay Of Pigs, the Cuban Missile Crisis, the building of the Berlin Wall and the start of the Space Race. Recently there has been much speculation that Fidel Castro may have been involved in the murder.

President Kennedy was assassinated on November 22, 1963 and Lee Harvey Oswald was charged with the murder and was subsequently killed by Jack Ruby two days later. Ruby later died in prison of cancer and may have been ordered to snuff Oswald to cover up the fact that he was innocent.

The Warren Commission ruled that Oswald acted alone. However in 1979, the House Committee ruled that it was likely that a conspiracy did exist and that he did not act alone.

And we also now have photos showing Oswald standing in the doorway of the Book Depository when Kennedy was shot. If he was in that doorway when the shots were fired, then he was innocent.

If it’s proven that it is him in that photo, then the American people have been told a lie all these years and the people who carried out this crime need to be brought to justice.

The Zapruder Film: Truth or Deception?

Oswald Did Not Shoot Kennedy

If the photo below can be believed then Oswald did not shoot John F. Kennedy. He could not have. If the photo is real then Oswald was standing downstairs when the deadly shots rang out.

Multiple Theories Arose

If Oswald was not the shooter, then there was indeed a conspiracy. Recently it has become public knowledge that Oswald and Jack Ruby probably did know each other before any of the events happened. If so, then it is very likely that he was what he claimed to be all along, a patsy. Oswald was set up and Ruby was sent in to kill him and keep him silent. Some people theorized that Oswald would be killed by the police or secret service and would never stand trial. But when he was arrested he had to be eliminated and Ruby, who had deep connections to the mafia, was ordered in to kill him.

It is looking more and more possible that Louisiana’s New Orleans District Attorney Garrison was right on track and that possibly quite possibly the U.S. Government and the Mafia were in on the plot to kill John F. Kennedy.

The American people deserve to know the truth about what happened in Dallas on that cold November afternoon all those years ago. They have a right to know who killed Jack Kennedy. If Oswald did not pull the trigger, then who did?

Was it a team of snipers that killed him, while Oswald watched from the doorway, when he was supposed to be upstairs shooting the President?

And when he was taken into custody, instead of being killed, was Jack Ruby ordered to go in and kill Oswald to keep the truth from ever coming out?

If all of this went on, is it so far fetched to believe that President Johnson may have indeed been behind the murder? Maybe that is the reason that Bobby Kennedy, and later John Jr., were killed. They were killed to keep the truth hidden.

And in recent years, it has been theorized that possibly Fidel Castro was behind the murder of all three of the Kennedy’s. Maybe the operation that was started to kill Castro was turned back on Kennedy. Maybe our president was killed on his orders.

What Do I Think?

I think that all three Kennedy’s were killed on the orders of President Johnson and others. I think Bobby Kennedy and later John Jr. were killed to keep the truth hidden from the American public. I think America was changed forever on that November afternoon in Dallas. I would love to see the truth to come out about the murder but I just don’t know if the truth will ever come out.

Recently Released Photo Showing Oswald in Doorway During the JFK Presidential Motorcade When He Was Supposed to Be Shooting the President

Photos of President John Kennedy (Including Many from the Crime Scene)

Click thumbnail to view full-size

The Kennedy’s Are Looking Happy In This Photo. The Shots Are About To Be Fired.

Oswald in Doorway When He Is Supposed to Be Upstairs

There is no doubt in my mind that Lee Oswald is standing there in the doorway of the Book Depository building in the photo above. The American people have been lied to and fed a line of B.S. It’s really a serious crime. We have been lied to by people in the highest levels of the American government, and they thought they could keep us in the dark forever.

Why Is Lee Harvey Oswald in That Doorway?

But now photos of Oswald standing in that doorway are everywhere and if you’re an American citizen you should care. You should be writing to your congress person and senator and asking them what is Lee Harvey Oswald doing in that doorway? You should ask who killed John Kennedy and why is it still being covered up? I really believe that there was a conspiracy and I think that presidents, congressmen, and senators have known the truth and they have gone right along with telling the American people a lie.

As an American Citizen and Former U.S. Naval Officer I’m Seriously Concerned About This, as Should Be Every American Citizen

We were told a story down through the years since the assassination and over the years they have changed the story again and again, as needed. They think we should just forget about it and move on. America was seriously changed that day in Dallas– part of it died.

Robert Kennedy and John Kennedy Jr. Were Killed to Cover up This LieI believe that they killed Robert Kennedy to cover up the lie and I believe they also killed John Kennedy Jr. If Ted Kennedy had ever become a serious candidate for president he would have been killed.

Lee Harvey Oswald Was Killed to Hide the Continuing ConspiracyHe was set up to take the blame for killing the president and Ruby was ordered to kill him to prevent a trial in Dallas. It’s not that farfetched to think that Ruby was given an injection of cancer cells to kill him off and keep him silent.

Did President Johnson Know Kennedy Was Killed by the U.S. Government?I believe that the conspiracy went all the way up to President Johnson and probably included many more people than we realize. I believe that President Johnson was in on the murder of the president and may have even approved the actions. By removing Kennedy, he was able to keep the Vietnam War going and it created billions of dollars of income for companies supplying weapons to the U.S. Government in Vietnam. Johnson would not run for a second term as U.S. President. Did Robert Kennedy threaten to expose Johnson? Is this why Johnson chose to not seek a second term as U.S. President?

Check Out These Photos Carefully

Photos of Lee Harvey Oswald And another photo of Oswald in the doorway of the building.

You can see Lee Harvey Oswald Standing In The Doorway And If He Was In The Doorway He Could Not Be Shooting President Kennedy

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I was browsing through some old music yesterday and came across a recording of Gil-Scott Heron doing a cover of the classic Marvin Gaye song, Inner City Blues. While I listened, smile fixed firmly, I started thinking of the general feel of the world back then.

I have a young cousin whom I believe thinks that his generation has invented social outrage. I think that a lot of his generation think that, just as my generation thought that we invented it. What struck me was the fact that whenever we speak, I find myself sounding more like “the establishment” than the revolutionary I was way back when.

So what happened?

When did I go from screaming “off the pigs!” to becoming a supporter of the police even in these troubling times. When did I change my views on social programs to being the guy yelling for mandatory drug testing for welfare recipients? When did I change my thoughts on the way the penal system is run? More importantly, why did everything change?

Why was I suddenly on the same side as my parents? I have to admit, I was really confused at that point. Then it hit me. The world just got really stupid. Really, really stupid. I’ll show you an example.

In the 60s and 70s, racism was at a peak. Blacks trying to get to be accepted and whites fighting it tooth and nail. But my generation knew how to fix that. We simply accepted each other and figured that when we were older, things would be different. Change from within right?

Wrong!

When we got older, we suddenly became overly sensitive. We suddenly became politically respectable. Keep that word in mind…it’s another way of saying douchebag. So now, we’re not content with just living and treating each other according to the golden rule of treat others as you wish to be treated. Now, we have a whole set of rules. We can’t say this word, we can’t talk about that subject, we can’t, we can’t, we just can’t.

So instead of fixing the situation by making everybody equal, we have succeeded in putting people back on islands. And this is where it gets really stupid. Now, if I say I expect welfare recipients to be drug tested, I’m a racist. Notice, I didn’t say Black welfare recipients or Asian recipients…it just stands to reason that white people don’t use welfare. Which anybody can tell you, is complete and utter bullshit.

Within the penal system, again it goes to the use of my tax dollars. Why do I have to keep paying for murderers and rapists…of any color…to be incarcerated for life? Or career criminals for that matter. I’m sorry, but if they pull your file and it looks like a copy of War and Peace, I don’t think you need to be around in any society. My ideals changed due to economics. My economics to be more precise. Now that I needed to make money to keep a family alive, I was all to aware of taxes. Taxes that we as a whole, let get ridiculously out of hand. Stupid.

I have a saying I’m fond of. When asked how I feel about other races, I tell people that I’ve been screwed over, hurt and maligned quite a few times in my life. About 99% of the time, it was a white guy doing it. So, if I’m going to make generalizations based on isolated incidents, I’ll have to go with being prejudiced against whites.

But now that I’m on the working side of the payroll, I’m not so inclined to give my already taxed to death money away. I’m not against welfare, I’m against people using it to keep a drug users life going. I’m not against curbing police violence, I’m against you being stupid enough to antagonize them into being violent. I’ve been stopped by the cops a lot…I’m no angel so it wasn’t a Mr. Squeaky-Clean white man stop. I’ve been thrown against cars and walls but never lost my composure. If they say put both hands on your head, guess where my hands are? I’m not stupid enough to argue with an armed man or woman.

So, I’m blaming stupidity for the changes in my stand. Politicians get greedier and people just blindly follow them. Stupid. Racism is stronger than ever but people accept it as political correctness. Stupid. For all we fought for, nothing has changed except the outward appearances. If anything, things have gotten worse. Sure, we have a few good victories…women’s rights have improved, abortion issues have improved, religious issues are better…but there’s a good chance all those small victories will be gone tomorrow.

Because of stupidity.

So here’s the deal. You can’t change things with peaceful protest. You can’t change things with lawful assembly. You can’t change things with petitions, town hall meetings, letters to your congressman…you can’t change things. All you can change is yourself. Look at the world differently and hope that you’ll find enough people that see what you see. Keep true to your ideals and maybe someday they’ll be a reality for more than just you.

You don’t need rules and regulations to tell you how to behave with other people. What you need is morals. There are no differences among races other than the ones we allow to mark us. Same goes for religion, sex or sexual orientation.

Don’t sweat it if your ideals seem to have shifted. They might have, but mostly you’ve just had enough of the dumbed-down world around us.

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So, we are now looking for a couple of good cars. Used is fine and the car I need doesn’t have to be especially new. We’re both hard-core Jeep people so that puts us in a narrow corridor for buying. Last week we went to our first lot here in our new home in Miami. I was immediately drawn to a very nice looking ’04 Liberty. Yeah, yeah, I know all about the Liberty being a “chick jeep” but I don’t care. I like them.

As I looked it over, right there behind the spare was the tell tale wrinkle that told me the car had been rear-ended. This is how the conversation with the dealer went;

Me: The car has been in an accident.

Dealer: No it hasn’t.

Me: Here’s the damage. I was in an accident in my previous Liberty and had the exact same damage.

Dealer: There was no accident report put in…so, no accident.

Hmmmm…something isn’t quite right about that. We moseyed around the lot and fixed on a 2010 Patriot. As I circled it, I saw that it was really low. Bad shocks I imagined. Then I saw the dent on the front passenger side bumper. Around the front, the grill and headlight housing were pushed out.

I really hated to do it, but I had to speak to the dealer again. Here we go for round two;

Me: This has been in an accident too.

Dealer: The air works great in this one. Let me show you… (the car was wheezing during the slow start)

Me: What about the accident?

Dealer: Feel how cold it gets.

Me: I don’t care about the air. I care about the accidents.

Dealer: This is Miami…everybody cares about air. No report, no accident.

Me: OK, what about the damage then? How much are you willing to take off to fix it?

Dealer: What damage? These little cosmetic things?

So as my wife and I walked out, me fuming and her giggling, I wondered if every lot we go to will be like this. I wondered if all used car salesmen in Miami will be so asinine. I wanted to go back and explain to him that if I punched him in the face and broke his nose, that he would expect me to pay for this little cosmetic thing.

Our next stop will be at a larger dealership where the sales staff wear white shirts and long pants. Where damage to a car is considered more than a little cosmetic thing. Where hopefully, the cars don’t sound as if they need a hand crank to get them going.

Kim Troike

Brain to Books Blog Tour

Fast Facts:

Bio

Kim Troike is a female author residing in Atlanta, Georgia. She has written fiction in the adventure, mystery, romance and contemporary genres. Her latest epic novel is “Into the Vines” which includes award winning Bleu Moon, published by XLibris in January 2015 and available as an e-read or print on Amazon.

Previous published works of Kim Troike are “String The Cranberries” and “Kiss Ride” both are novellas available as e-reads on Amazon. She’s a blogger and previously a part time journalist. Occasionally, she pens poems or children’s stories using the pen Caroline Clemens.

Kim has worked most of her life as a nurse in the acute settings of the Intensive Care Units. Her journey in life met with some struggles and many wonderful people along the way. She combines this storytelling in poetic and intricate words woven to master the English language. Read her compelling and unique stories of children, families and love; anything that makes the world go forward.

She is a member of the Georgia’s Writer Association, honorary winner of the London and Los Angeles Book Festivals for Bleu Moon, participant of Georgia Red Clay Writer’s Conferences, nominated Georgia Author of the Year for Bleu Moon, and uses gardenlilie and theivorytide as profile names on social medias for the net.

Blurb

Into the Vines A family is formed on a vineyard through extreme circumstances after a pilot rescues persons around the globe from disasters!

Excerpt

December 23rd, 2012

RSVP: Marie and Nicolas

*complimentary Vineyard Stay

“How many have responded?” he asked.

“Marie told me about forty family and friends responded, with ten additional from the vineyard Christmas guest book,” Brie answered.

“So with us that makes about sixty with all of us. There should be plenty of room if everyone is spread out amongst the two floors,” Olivier said.

“Two . . . floors?” she asked.

“Yes, you didn’t go upstairs?” he asked.

“Upstairs, you mean the bedrooms?” she answered.

“Brie, there is a large dance floor with piano and band area. A small bar for parties,” he said surprised she had not seen this.

“Really, you have a dance floor on the second floor?”

“Yes, you’re going to like it, if you like to dance.” He raised his eyebrows a little.

“I thought Marie would use the front hall and guest receiving area for the reception,” Brie said.

“Back in the day, they built these dance halls upstairs to entertain the guests and to look out over the vineyards. To entertain themselves and enjoy the festivities! You’ll see,” Olivier said.

Brie looked out the window at the snow coming down; it made the countryside look beautiful. The moon was about half full, but bright, as it lit up the homes and chateaus. In the distance, she could see a very large, old chateau and she wondered who built these. They seemed so magical. She decided she needed to look at a book and read about this part of France. Marie’s gift shop probably had one. She should buy it for Olivier, and then he could fill in all the extras with his knowledge of the area. She looked over at Olivier, and he was in full control over his emotions. He seemed fine, no further episodes of dreaming or waking up to terror as of late. He was calm, happy, and not missing the missions. He was focused on the future, the new vineyard he purchased, their wedding, and even talks of children. Brie wasn’t sure what the future held, but she knew one thing: she would not worry because that didn’t help anyone.

Ella Drayton

Brain to Books Blog Tour Ella Drayton

Fast Facts:

Bio

Writer. Book Critic. Mother. Animal Lover. Twitter addict. Insomniac.

Ella is from a very small town in Alabama. When she is not day dreaming about her next story she spend most of her time caring for a Tiny Tyrant and her furry best friend, Mutt. Her house and her electronics are cluttered with books she’s read, books she’s reading, and books to be read. She also pretends to be a housewife in her spare time, occasionally cooking and cleaning for a wonderful husband who never complains. Writing and reading are her two biggest passions other than pretending to be a T-Rex princess pony that can only eat pink Starburst with her little one. Ella also uses movie quotes and song lyrics constantly in conversation and freaks out/passes out at the sight of slugs.

Blurb:

Brodie Barrett is a widowed mother of a 10 year old girl and a homicide detective for the Birmingham Police Department. Everything seems fine in her world until her ex-fiance, Keaton Maddox walks back into her life. She’s ready to start a new life with Keaton but he’s also got a pregnant girlfriend working at his restaurant. Things at work start heating up for Brodie when someone decides to send her love letters at work. These aren’t your ordinary love letters, though! These letters leave clues for Brodie to find bodies of her admirer’s victims. Who could be sending these letters and why do they want Brodie to find the bodies?

Book Review:
“For me, the mystery within The Letters carried just the right amount of weight. The story was well paced, offered plenty of provocative details to keep me enticed, and happily kept me guessing. Pacing is an important detail for me as a reader; based upon the pacing of this book, I look forward to reading more by Ms. Drayton.” – Cary Ellen Kramer

“I liked this book. It overcame something of a hurdle I’ve had in enjoying mysteries for a long time: patterns of clues and behaviors that don’t hold up when you consider that cell phones and the Internet both exist. I’ve often worried that the onward march of tech was going to lead to the end of mysteries of the kind I used to love, but I’m now reassured that the art of writing good mysteries is alive and well.” — John Blackport

Excerpt

“What do you want?”

“Feel like company?”

“No.”

“Too bad. I’m at your front door.”

“Go away.”

“I’m using the key.”

“Shove that key up your ass.”

I heard the phone go dead and then my front door opening. Walker had been my best friend since junior high. I had given him that key after my husband, Grayson, had been kidnapped and killed by a man who had been stalking me. His body was found on our fifth wedding anniversary.

I decided since Walker was already in my house and there was no chance of going back to sleep, I might as well get up off the couch. I walked into the bathroom and flipped the switch nearly burning my eyes with the fluorescent light that flooded the room. As I was about to brush my teeth, he appeared behind me in the mirror. Walker, who was a chubby kid in high school, had become a muscular gym rat. He traded in his shaggy brown hair for a bald head, stopped fighting the beard that kept trying to grow (he kept it very closely shaved, however), and wore most of his designer clothes so tight that you didn’t have to imagine what that muscular body might look like without them. At nine forty-five in the morning, he looked like an Abercrombie model in his light pink button down shirt and faded jeans with the holes strategically placed down the legs. I looked like shit.

“I was just wondering how you comb your hair so the horns don’t show.”

“Gee, you’re hilarious. Have you ever thought about doing stand-up? What do you want? This is supposed to be my off day. As in, I’m off from everything. I do not exist to the rest of the world. It’s just supposed to be a ménage trios between me, the couch, and my TV.”

“A ménage, huh? I didn’t know you were into such kink. I could make that a lot more fun for you, you know?

“Oh, Walker,” I said between strokes of my toothbrush. “I’m not your type, sugar. I’m not inflatable.”

“I wish there were words to describe how much of an ass you are.””

“There are. They just aren’t covered in ‘Run, Spot, Run’ so you’re not familiar with them.”

“Ha Ha. Wash your face and let’s get something to eat. My treat?”

My eyebrows shot up and I stopped wiping my mouth on my towel. Walker was apparently up to no good. He never offered to pay for anything unless he was trying to talk me into something or sweeten the blow of something he’d done. He’d purchased my senior prom dress and brought it to my house in the hopes that I wouldn’t be pissed at him for breaking my date’s nose two days before the prom. I can also remember two separate occasions that he paid for a weekend vacation at the beach to make up for backing into my car and for setting my custom built shooting house on fire. The stories of how these two instances actually came about were still kind of vague. Needless to say, Walker was an accident waiting to happen and believed that money could smooth anything over.

Brain to Books Blog Tour

Fast Facts:

BioI started writing as a child in World War Two, and have barely stopped since. Much of it has been as a travel writer for major UK newspapers and magazines. More recently I have returned to my first love of writing fiction and have self-published several novels, two anthologies of short stories, and a true adventure (The Big Muddy – a canoe journey down the Mississippi with my late husband).

A recurrent theme has been the effect of war on the children and grandchildren of participants (as in my trilogy ‘Another Kind of Loving’, ‘Beyond the Broken Gate, and ‘Long Shadows; and, more recently, ‘The Other Side of Silence’). Reconciliation is also a recurrent theme as is my belief that it is better to be part of the cure than part of the problem. My first attempt at a YA novel deals with the problem of addiction. ‘It’ll be Better Tomorrow’ is my most recently anthology and puts the matter of aging in a positive light.

I currently have two further projects in my mind. One is yet another anthology, this time venturing into the world of semi-fantasy and parallel universes. The other is concerned with the growing problem of dementia in what is a massively increasing number in our aging population in the UK (and probably the world). Having cared for a husband with mild dementia, with all the humour and frustrations that go with short term memory loss, I am also keenly aware that beneath the illness remains a very worthwhile companion and friend. His long term memory remained phenomenal and has led me to create a new type of hero for my next book: a man with mild dementia who provides the solutions to a mystery involving identity theft.

Author Accomplishments

My late husband (my best mate George died in February 2013) and I travelled widely, walked a great deal and were responsible for creating a marked circular walk in our corner of England (north Oxfordshire).

My Swiss grandfather was a forester and I was responsible for the creation of a wood in the same part of England: very small but it has added a new small green patch to the map of our county. It belongs to a national charity called the Woodland Trust, but we had to raise a lot of money in a hurry to qualify for their planting of the trees – all native trees and now – nearly 20 years later – looking really splendid. It’s a great magnet for walkers and children.

I belong to and am active in U3A (not sure if it exists in the U.S., but it’s an organisation for retired people, organising groups with shared interests such as writing, art history, philosophy). If you don’t have it, I suggest you start it (they will have a website).

At nearly 85, I guess my stamina isn’t quite what it was!

Reviews

Blurb

The older generation don’t always get a good press, but some of them are quite remarkable. For example, teenager Buzz was blown away when he found how his Granny Em had put his lessons on computing to very unusual use (Grannies dot com). Harry Briggs was another one who managed to turn the tables with a little help from his grandson and modern technology (Wake Up Call). In contrast, Elli (The Class of ‘65) and Phillida (The Don’t Care Generation) had both left an impression on the Third World; Alice learned at last to stand up for herself (The Wrong Track), Robert Sinclair kept his exploits to himself (Reluctant Hero), and Astra finally solved the mystery of her father’s World War Two trauma (Just Nineteen Days). But maybe the last word remains with Ben whose mantra provided the title for this book. When pushed about his uncertain future, he unfailingly said “It’ll be Better Tomorrow.”

These are some of the stories of Manorfields’ residents, their relatives and their carers. There is humour, poignancy, even romance, but above all they demonstrate that life is very often stranger than fiction.

Janet Roberts

Brain to Books Blog Tour

Fast Facts

Bio

I live in Nottinghamshire, right in the middle of England, not far from Robin Hood’s haunt of Sherwood Forest!

As a frail child I was unable to gain popularity at school by being good at sports, but instead I was the class story-teller, a good training for a writer! In those days we were given ‘set books’ to study, often Dickens or something similar, and at the end of the year we would be examined about the story/characters etc. A lot of my class never read the books, they just relied on me to tell them what was going on, using different voices and expressions, so that the story was alive and vivid for them!

Later I started writing stories for women’s magazines, and once the children were grown I began to write more seriously, for national magazines, finding my interest was increasingly in historical facts.

I wrote this book after going to a slide evening held at our local library. The historian would put up a picture, and the audience would enthusiastically call out the location and name of the subject – until he showed a picture of a small, somewhat dark building, that had got everyone puzzled. After much encouragement from the speaker, someone tentatively suggested it was ‘that strange building near Milton Moor’. This was correct – it was in fact the Milton Mausoleum, which I, and I think most of the audience, had never heard of. The speaker then showed a picture of a marble statue, showing a reclining woman holding two babies, one in each arm. No one had a clue where this was, but he assured us it was within the Mausoleum!

This was something I just had to see, the statue was so lovely. However, on going to visit a few days later, I discovered the sad little building locked and totally inaccessible. It was a very long time before I saw the statue for myself, but I had established that I could find out more about it by going to Nottingham University and studying the diaries of the 4th Duke of Newcastle – the chap who had commissioned both the Mausoleum and the statue.

What an adventure that turned out to be! Not only did I have to look on the map to find out where the University was located, but on arrival I had to have an interview, to established that I was a serious student, and of good character! Only then was I given a Reader’s Card, and told I was limited to a pencil and a notebook, and then the ordering system explained. With the help of the librarian I selected the first surviving diary of the 4th Duke, and a white-coated porter eventually appeared, bearing the precious book on a white pillow! This was placed before me, and I was aware of being watched like a hawk as I carefully opened the precious book, to discover that the very first surviving words, written in the Duke’s distinctive handwriting were: May 27th 1822: On this melancholy day we have lost our dear child Anna-Marie – about a week and two days since she complained of weakness and no appetite.” How sad was that!

Many years later I became a guide at the Mausoleum on the couple of days a year when it was open, and people were captivated to hear the story of this most loving couple. I am delighted to say that a ‘Friends of the Mausoleum’ has recently been formed, the building has been much improved (even with glass in the windows instead of being boarded) and it is open several Sundays a month – so many more people are seeing the statue and hearing the story behind its commission.

Author Accomplishments:

As well as writing e-books and booklets, I am kept busy with the Local Talking Newspaper for the Blind, an excellent organisation that I have been involved with for several decades. Over that time I have carried many different roles, but now I concentrate on producing scripts to be read onto CD’s or Memory Sticks. The challenge is not so much writing the feature, or even getting it the right length, but endlessly thinking up suitable topics which would appeal to people who are blind, remembering that for some this has been for a lifetime, for the majority it is something that has developed together with old age. This week I have chosen a section from the excellent book ‘Consider the Fork – A History of Invention in the Kitchen’ by Bee Wilson. I was also very fortunate in being able to track down this author, who has most kindly said I can quote directly from the book, with the necessary credits of course, but this has saved a lot of work, as well as capturing her delightful style.
Every week I also go to ‘Healing Hands’ a group that has been functioning in nearby Mansfield for some 18 years. It’s run on a drop-in basis for members of the general public, and Reki is offered by trained practitioners. My role is running the library of what I hope are suitable, and very mixed books, with something for everyone. I also think it’s important to be sociable and welcoming, especially during tea and biscuits at the end of the afternoon, for many people are lonely and this might be their only interaction for several days. Most importantof all, I am responsible forsending Distant Healing. I became increasingly aware that not everyone could come to a healing session, and knowing that many churches run healing books, we also offer this service. I like people to write the name of the person in the book themselves, as this makes it more personal, and I prefer not to know anything about the problem, my reasoning being that if a person has, say, a diagnosis of cancer, not just the site will be affected, but the whole person’s mental and physical well being will be in turmoil. A holistic approach I feel is most suitable I also have no problem with people adding animals to the list, after all they too are part of God’s creation, although I do find it easier to visulise if I know if Sparky is a dog, cat or a horse! As a direct result of this work, I wrote the small handbook‘The Power of Distant Healing’ details of which you can on my web page. In additon my friend and I are collectors for the charity ‘Tools with a Mission’. The idea is that when someone has an unwanted item, such as a knitting or sewing machine, carpentry tools or an old typewriter, rather than just throwing it away, we go and collect it. This excellent charity refurbishes everything, and then it is sent to Africa, where people can start their own business. This seems so much more sensible than just sending money. This way they can feed and educate their children for years, rather just having a meal for a day. For more information please see http://www.twam.co.uk/
My friend lives with me, after a terrible 50 years of abuse and maltreatment. I told them that the past may have been rubbish, but for however long we had left we would do everything that sounded like fun! Consequently my blog: www.nottinghamshirenotes.blogspot.com chronicles some of our adventures, and tells fellow travellers what I thought of the places we visit.

Book blurb:

The 4th duke of newcastle was a sad and unhappy man until he met and married 18 year-old georgiana in 1807. he took his 18 year old bride to clumber house, a fine mansion in the middle of sherwood forest.
tragically their idyllic marriage ended with her death at the age of 33 but his thoughts and plans remain vividly in the diaries he wrote at the time.
these form the basis for this ebook

Book Excerpt:

30th January 1822: Today is my birthday. I have this day completed my 38th year. A heavy cloud hangs over me, and affects me greatly. I cannot help comparing my situation now to what has been in former years. On this day I used to receive the earliest congratulations of my dearest wife, enhanced by a thousand kindnesses and amiable attentions. Now what a change, a dreary blank…’